


Bad Dates, Horrible Relatives and Adamantium Claws

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 15-Day OTP Challenge, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, Romance, Self Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-19 07:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 8,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: 15 pieces of fluff around an unpopular pairing that I really, REALLY ship. All the prompts were thought up on my own just because I like writing fluff for these two and sometimes the pieces of fluff I think up wouldn't fit into one of my greater narratives.





	1. List of Prompts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lisarentahl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisarentahl/gifts).



> Gifting this to lisarentahl for always giving me feedback and having read my terrible stories about these two from the beginning :)

So, here is the list of prompts I came up with in case anyone else wants to use them for their own works and OTPs. This is just a 15-part list because I couldn't come up with more than that.

  1. Mildly arguing about what movie to watch.
  2. One comforts the other after a very bad day at work.
  3. One has trouble sleeping and the other tries to help them work it out.
  4. A whole tube of toothpaste got squirted all over the bathroom. (This one might sound weird but I feel like it could be really funny as a piece of fluff.)
  5. Fixing or cleaning the car together.
  6. Snuggling on the couch and watching it snow outside, then realizing that it means there’s shovelling to be done.
  7. Emailing each other when one is far away because of work.
  8. Laundry day.
  9. A date that goes horribly wrong… but it’s not the fault of either of them.
  10. Stomach flu and all its horrors.
  11. Dealing with relatives and not getting along at all.
  12. Having an annoying time while grocery shopping together.
  13. Taking care of a baby (whether it’s theirs or not).
  14. A vacation that one of them really enjoys and the other is only putting up with to make them happy.
  15. An insufferable Christmas party at work that they just couldn’t find an excuse to get out of.




	2. Mildly arguing about what movie to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one might seem simple, but it's actually a really hard one for me. Mainly because I just can't picture Logan sitting still long enough to watch an entire movie.
> 
> Also, more importantly, this one takes place at some point after Brian and Laura have been rescued but before Logan has asked Jean to marry him in my series [Ethics And Existentialism In Hell](http://archiveofourown.org/series/733464).

"How 'bout  _28 Weeks Later_?" Logan suggested, watching her out of the corner of his eye while they dug through the stacks of DVDs and Blu-Ray discs.

"We're watching a movie with  _students,_  Logan. Stop suggesting everything you come across that's a complete bloodbath."

"But those're the only ones I like," he grinned, pleased with himself at the eye-roll he got in reply.

"James Logan Howlett."

"Yeah, I get it. Don't call me James."

"Here we go," Jean muttered, pulling one out. "You might be okay with this one. It has sharks, explosions and killer children."

"Oh yeah? Anythin' in it I don't like?" he questioned, looking at the case and seeing the title  _Finding Nemo._

"The humans in it are Australians," she teased.

Now it was Logan's turn for the eye-roll. "Don't hate all Australians, darlin'. Just sick'a you always sayin' how handsome that one guy is every time you see a movie with him in it."

"He  _is_ handsome," she smiled, clearly poking fun at him. "Besides, he's talented, too. You liked him okay when you saw  _Swordfish._ "

"Yeah, well, there's just somethin' entertainin' 'bout testin' a guy's skills by holdin' a gun to his head an' makin' him show what he's good at while he's gettin' a blow-job. That still don't mean I like hearin' 'bout him.  _I_ wanna be the only handsome guy you go on an' on 'bout."

"You're fine," Jean insisted, leaning over briefly to kiss his temple. "It's okay, I'm almost positive that Hugh Jackman's not in this movie, and even if he is, it's animated anyway."

Logan snorted, then followed her over to the cluster of couches and chairs where more than a dozen students were all waiting impatiently for their movie. He and Jean were the ones who'd been shoehorned into "movie night" this week, because apparently Scooter going to that political thing with Hank and Chuck was too damn important to spare Logan this amount of suffering. He hated sitting around through stupid cartoon films with a bunch of rambunctious little shits all talking and giggling the whole time. To make things worse, both of  _his_ kids were joining in. It was horrible and sad how fascinated they were by movies, television, or really anything even remotely entertaining and most things that weren't. Even after however many months, the world away from the lab they'd been born in was still shiny and new to Brian and Laura. It reminded him painfully of the ugly place his mind had been trapped in after his own rescue at the hands of Jeannie and the rest of the X-Men.

They plugged in the stupid fish movie and Logan was already zoning out after the first two minutes, leaning into the corner of the couch with Jean's head in his lap and his fingers carding through her hair. Laura had stuffed herself between his right side and the arm of the couch, while Brian was sprawled across the other arm with a leg dangling off each side and both hands occupied with his drawing. He could never pay attention to an entire movie or even a half-hour show. Surveying his little family unit, Logan found himself slowly creeping towards a feeling of... inner peace. That was new for him. His nephew, though not currently possessing any useful skills, was at least good at  _something_ and it kept him happy and entertained. His daughter was clinging to him in kind of a stifling manner, but it made him feel like he was making a difference for her. His girlfriend had pushed him into this (kind of), but she loved him so much more than he deserved. That made him a lot more able to tolerate the stupid fish cartoon, actually. Stupid fish cartoons and insufferable Australian actors aside, his life was pretty okay right now.


	3. One comforts the other after a very bad day at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's not tied to any particular continuity.

Jean woke up in the middle of the night by the sound of crashing near the bed. Bolting upright even before her eyes had opened, she found Logan yanking off the other boot and pegging it into the closet as hard as he could to join its twin. His movements were rough and angry, tearing his X-Men uniform off in such a way that it was miraculous he didn't rip it to shreds.

"Be louder while I'm trying to sleep," Jean grumbled at him before her brain caught up with her mouth. In her defense, it wasn't the first time he'd woken her up. "Couldn't you have done this downstairs in the locker room?"

The only answer was a long growl, but it didn't sound enraged... actually, she knew that sound, it was when he was trying to be pissed to hide the fact that something had upset him horribly. Jean immediately felt ashamed for her snarky comment, slipping out of bed and gently hugging him from behind with her face resting in his neck. "What happened?"

"Looking for a kid who just manifested," Logan grunted, shucking his sleeveless undershirt and socks so that he would've been naked if his boxers had come off with them. "Chuck lost contact with his brain few minutes before we got there. Went to his last known coordinates... well, cops were chasing the kid so he hid in a storm drain. It was pouring buckets when we got there and the reason Charles couldn't detect him no more is 'cause the drain filled up and he drowned. We were too late."

Logan's rough voice cracked slightly on the last word, shaggy head hanging and arms limp at his sides. Jean turned him in her embrace until his face was in her shoulder and he was hugging back, mumbling something about how accidents were almost worse because nobody saw them coming like this one.

"It wasn't your fault," Jean murmured to him, stroking her fingers up and down his strong back. Logan would never admit it, but he did have a little bit of a soft spot for kids. It was part of the reason he'd stuck around the school even though he was antisocial and had a very strong wanderlust. Being unable to save a young mutant always made him feel like he'd been gutted. "I'm sorry you couldn't get there in time, Logan. But it really wasn't your fault. Nobody should've been chasing him and he wouldn't have had to hide in such an unsafe place."

After pressing soft kisses to his temples and forehead and finally his mouth, Jean led Logan gently by the hand into the bathroom and got into the shower after him. She massaged the soap into his skin and then his wild black hair, wanting to make sure he couldn't smell the sweat or the guilt on himself anymore. Gradually he got into the motions as well, lathering body wash over her with his palms and stroking conditioner into her long hair with his fingers. Once they couldn't possibly get each other cleaner they stepped out from the steam to towel one another dry, and Jean let Logan brush her hair because he loved doing it. Jean got back into her pajamas while Logan threw on clean boxers and a fresh undershirt, then they snuggled up together in the sheets and blankets, his tough body spooned around her slender frame from behind. Jean whispered soothing, loving things to him until he fell asleep, and she started to drift off feeling him breathe against her back. What had happened out there had been terrible, but he wouldn't be so absorbed in it tomorrow morning. He'd wake up smelling like soap and like her, and it would calm him. It always did.


	4. One has trouble sleeping and the other tries to help them work it out.

For once, it was Jean who slept horribly.

Her tossing on the bed shook Logan out of a rare dreamless bliss, and he groaned as he rubbed his face on his palms. "Something wrong over there, darlin'?"

"I can't fall asleep," she complained quietly, rolling onto her side to face him. "I think I had too much coffee today."

"Mph," Logan grunted, struggling to sit up and still blinking back slumber. "Here, lie face-down..."

"No, not right now. Maybe tomorrow before we get ready for work."

"I ain't thinking about sex, baby. Just trust me."

Once she'd done as he asked, Logan rested his hands on her shoulders for a second. He began circling his fingers and thumbs into Jean's back, working the lean muscles and gradually loosening them. She was tangibly relaxing under his hands, occasionally offering an almost inaudible sigh of relief, as Logan slowly made his way down her torso. Once he'd finished with her lower back, she was already almost passed out, so he gathered her into his arms and spooned around her from behind so he could feel her drifting off.

 

The next morning they made love in the shower and ended up both being late for their first class of the day.


	5. A whole tube of toothpaste got squirted all over the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a weird one, it just sort of popped into my head and I actually have two ideas for how it could progress. The first one isn't tied to any particular continuity and the second one is in my [Ethics And Existentialism In Hell](http://archiveofourown.org/series/733464) series, in the middle of [Only In Name And Blood](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10912590).

**1.**

Jean was putting away her clean and neatly-folded clothes when she heard the crash, followed by a loud string of swear words (of which only half were even in English). Alarmed, she ran across the room and flung open the door to the bathroom to find Logan on the floor, soaking wet and still screaming obscenities in a fit of rage.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Jean demanded, helping him to his feet and starting to wipe at his drenched skin with a bath towel.

"Slipped outta the shower," Logan growled, glaring angrily at the ground. "Knocked all the shit offa the sink, and now look..."

Following his glower, Jean saw that he was shaking glass shards out of one foot from a broken hand mirror while his other had crushed a brand-new tube of toothpaste. It had been one of the large tubes designed to last for a while, and now green mint-flavored oral antiseptic gel was smeared all across the floor and Logan's toes.

"Here," Jean offered, soaking a washcloth and handing it to him. "I can get the rest of this, you just wipe off your feet and get dressed, okay?"

"Grrrmph," he rumbled, but did as she suggested.

Once Logan was out of the bedroom and heading down for breakfast, Jean looked at the smear of toothpaste across the tiling and couldn't help but giggle a little.

 

**2.**

Logan was still in kind of a shitty mood as he threw on his sweatpants and a wife beater in preparation for sleep. The fiasco at the mall yesterday was still on his mind, and Sabertooth being in the same building was getting to him (he could smell wherever the fucker had been and it made him nuts), trying to get Laura and Brian used to the idea of being in a school had been as annoying as he'd expected it to be. There was no way in hell those two would sit still through an entire class.

Jean came into his bedroom; she'd been over in hers, teaching the cubs how to brush their teeth, because that was apparently something kids were supposed to do before bed. Logan never brushed his teeth, there was no need, and he wondered why she insisted they had to if they also had the healing factor.

"It'll help them feel normal," Jean answered, obviously having heard that thought. "It's good for them to have a routine, they need stability right now so that they can adjust to their new environment."

"Their teeth ain't gonna rot," Logan pointed out, shrugging.

"I know, but getting them into the habit won't hurt. Besides, when they get moved to the student dorms and see their friends doing it, they won't feel strange or left out about it."

Logan grunted wordlessly in reply. He was about to climb into bed when his ears caught the pair of cubs starting to giggle quietly through the wall; this graduated to snickers, then eventually full-blown hysterical laughter. That was more concerning to him than if they'd started screaming.

"Somethin's goin' on," he informed Jean before bolting into the next room over and throwing open the door to the bathroom. Brian and Laura, now in the light gray school-issued pajamas, were covered in toothpaste with now almost empty tubes in their fists. "The fuck's goin' on in here?" Logan bellowed.

The pair of hellions just exchanged a look and began giggling again, their eyes on him and not the least bit chastened. At that moment Jean arrived on the scene as well, staring for a long moment. Logan got his hopes up that she'd help him punish them just as she also cracked and started laughing. Apparently having toothpaste for their weapons of choice wasn't something she'd seen very often, and even though the bathroom was almost as much of a mess as Brian and Laura were, the scene was kind of endearing. It was like escaping the lab hadn't fazed them at all and they were already almost normal, which Logan had to admit he liked the idea of.

Giving in to the situation and smirking slightly, he loosened his stance and helped his girlfriend clean up the mess before wrestling the kids into bed for the night.


	6. Fixing or cleaning the car together.

"You're not allowed to smoke while you're driving anymore," Jean grumped loudly from inside the cab of the pickup truck.

"How about when you're driving?"

"No. Vehicles don't come with built-in ashtrays anymore, I've been working in here for  _five minutes_ and my hands are already completely gray."

Logan rolled his eyes, safely hidden by the opened hood as he finished filling the radiator fluid and replaced the cap.

"Figured you'd be more upset about the food wrappers," he smirked, reaching for the jug of windshield washer liquid. "Eat a lot when I'm driving around on missions."

"No, the cigar ash is much worse," Jean assured him. "I may actually need to get a shovel."

That made him snicker a little, and once he was done playing with the engine he wiped off his grimy hands and went around to the passenger side door. Opening it and leaning in to help, Logan realized he'd had no idea how disgusting the inside of his truck was until now that he saw the spots Jean had cleaned up already.

"How long has it been since you cleaned this thing yourself?" she asked, glancing at him.

"Ain't cleaned it since I bought it," Logan shrugged, knowing it would get a rise out of her. "Don't see the point, it's just gonna get dirty again anyway..."

"That's not going to fly anymore," Jean replied firmly. "I'm going to start making you clean it every month."

"Yeah, right. You're gonna forget to do that by the end'a the week, baby."

Surprisingly, he saw a hesitant smile appear on her face. "Yeah, that's probably true," Jean admitted, her eyes meeting his. "But at least try not to smoke so much in the truck, okay? I have to use it sometimes too, you know."

"Sure, I'll try."

They both knew he'd forget as fast as she would, though.


	7. Snuggling on the couch and watching it snow outside, then realizing that it means there’s shoveling to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It snows a lot where I live, so that's where this prompt came from.

Logan settled comfortably on the biggest couch, sprawling with a satisfied grunt and reaching down to tear the top off the 30-pack of Molson. He'd cracked one and chugged half of it by the time the TV finished turning on, then flipped channels until he found the one he was looking for. The pregame was wrapping up, which was good because he hated sitting through that self-indulgent bullshit. Calgary Flames versus New York Rangers. He was from Alberta, so he'd been a Flames fan for longer than his memory was reliable, but he lived in New York now, so he wasn't quite sure who he'd root for on this one... well, whatever. He got to watch hockey and it was warm in the TV room and he had a huge box of Canadian beer. Life was good.

It got even better when Jean slipped into the room and settled on the couch with him, snuggling into his body and swiping one of his beers. Over the course of their relationship he'd gotten her to at least watch the sport with him sometimes, and she'd always sip at one of his beers out of solidarity even though she preferred things like Mike's Lemonade.

"Thanks for joinin' me, baby," Logan smiled, kissing the top of her head and looking up as the national anthems were played. "Who're you rooting for?"

"The blue ones," Jean answered, shifting slightly to set her beer on the floor.

Through the first third, students (starting with Rogue, Kitty and Jubilee of course, because for some reason they were like his fan club) began trickling in to watch. The kids were careful to be as close to silent as they could - nobody  _dared_ interrupt a hockey game when the Wolverine was watching. He didn't know why the little brats liked him so much, he was horrible to them during "gym" class and he wasn't a friendly guy.

A small mercy was that it was at least during the first intermission when Scott came in to ruin everything.

"We're having a snowstorm right now, Logan. It's your turn to help clear out the drive and walkways."

"Fuck you, Slim, the game's on."

"Now or I'll make them stop ordering your beer rations. And don't swear in front of the students."

Snarling, Logan grudgingly peeled himself off the couch and stomped off to grab his boots and coat, enraged. Of  _course_ it was his turn, both his teams were playing and he'd been snuggling with his girlfriend.

When he'd gotten outside, shovel in hand, he could only stop dead to stare for a minute - the whole thing was already cleared off. That was when he heard a quiet laugh.

"You do this for me, darlin'?" Logan grinned, turning to look at Jean.

"Telekinesis is a wonderful thing, baby. I know you really want to watch the game."

"Y'know, every time I think I can't love you more, you find a way to make me do it," Logan commented, slinging his arm across her shoulders and walking them both back in. The intermission was just ending when they sat back down, and they watched the rest of the game unmolested.


	8. Emailing each other when one is far away because of work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My boyfriend went to visit his mom and stepdad for New Years. We don't email, but he calls every night just like he does when he's out-of-state for work training.

**To: drgreyxavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**From: wolverinexavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**Subject:**

Hey Jeannie, just wantd to talk to you I hate your stupid medical conferences and when your not here I get the nightmares again. Scooters been getting on my nerves. Ran out of beer this morning. All in all, really shity day. I miss you. Love Logan

 

**To: wolverinexavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**From: drgreyxavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**Subject: Re:**

I know you hate my medical conventions, and I'm sorry I have to spend an entire week here. I miss you too and I'd much rather be with you than sitting in a stuffy conference room trying to pay attention to a very boring medical expert until it's my turn to speak. I know this doesn't help very much, but try to ignore Scott and remember that you do need to drink things besides beer sometimes. When I was younger I had a lot of anxiety, so before I went to sleep I would watch Disney cartoons and it would calm me down a lot. So, if you see the kids watching one, just sit and watch with them, and it might help the nightmares. Remember that I'll snuggle up to you when I get home.

Love, Jean

 

**To: drgreyxavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**From: wolverinexavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**Subject: Re: Re:**

Jean, Im on a mission with Storm and Gambit so I wont be abel to reply until tomorow. Still miss you alot and I think about you all day. Love Logan

 

**To: wolverinexavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**From: drgreyxavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**Subject: Re: Re: Re:**

So how did your mission go? I miss you too. At least it was my turn to present today so it was a little less insufferable. How have you slept? Did the cartoons help? (Did you even try it?) When I get back we can go out for greasy fast food and have dinner away from the school. Try not to torture the students too much while I'm away!

Love, Jean

 

**To: drgreyxavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**From: wolverinexavierinstitute@gmail.com**

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re:**

Mission sucked. Magneto kicked my ass again. Still sleeping awful and I havent tried it because the kids havent been watching disney movies. Looking forward to greasy food when you get back hopefully followed by quality time in bed. Love Logan

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Logan's grammar and spelling mistakes are on purpose.


	9. Laundry day.

"Logan!" Jean yelled from the bedroom, her tone angry.

"What?" he grunted, leaning his head out of the bathroom with the razor still in his fist.

"Care to explain this?"

His girlfriend was holding up five or six of his sleeveless undershirts, all full of holes and stained with blood and sweat.

"I get in fights a lot. You know about that."

"I bought you new shirts  _two weeks ago._ Is it really that much to ask for you  _not_ to destroy them the instant you put one on?"

"Well, it's kinda unavoidable in my line of work, baby," Logan answered, ducking back to the mirror and resuming his shave. He'd trimmed down his chops with the electric razor and now he was cleaning up around his mouth and under his chin. "Unless you want Hank to specially engineer damage-proof shirts for me, it's gonna keep happening and there ain't nothing I can do about it, neither."

"Fine, then. You can start buying your own damn undershirts."

"Whatever."

"And for making me go through this trouble, you can start doing your own laundry, too. I know you can use the machines."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Logan answered, rolling his eyes in the mirror. He didn't care if his clothes were disgusting, it wasn't as if he showered all that often, either. "Don't really care either way."


	10. A date that goes horribly wrong… but it’s not the fault of either of them.

"We should get food," Logan suggested as they left the movie theater.

The comment got him exactly the exasperated sigh and eye-roll he was expecting from Jean: "How are you  _possibly_ still hungry? I got two bites of popcorn before you ate the rest!"

"You're the one kept feeding it to me," he smirked. "And I'm always hungry. Thought you'd noticed by now."

It was their night off from being on-call for the X-Men, so they were out in Salem Center to take a break from the students and the team. At the beginning of their relationship, Logan had been pleasantly surprised to discover that Jean liked brainless action films, so they'd gone to see one tonight that had virtually no plot and too much CGI. That wasn't the point, though, and they both knew it. The point had been to just go to the movies and see a brainless action film like a normal couple, Logan's right hand in Jean's left all throughout while her right hand fed him the butter-slathered popcorn that he kept licking from her fingertips.

The thing about going on "normal people" dates was that they were very rarely noticed by the people around them. By the time media reporters showed up to local disaster areas, the X-Men were usually close to finished with their mission and were beat-up, dirty, clothes in shreds with messy hair and bruises galore. Out in the world like this, with Jean looking pretty and Logan's hair and beard freshly trimmed, both of them in comfortable but good-looking attire (in Logan's case that just meant his plaid shirt, wife beater and jeans weren't stained or full of holes and that his shirts were tucked under his belt), they were virtually unrecognizable from the battered and filthy superheroes/menaces the public usually saw. So if Logan got it into his head to suddenly spin Jean towards him and kiss her right on the sidewalk, civilians walking by wouldn't see Wolverine and Phoenix, they just saw a handsome guy and his beautiful girlfriend having a romantic outing and would usually smile a little at the loving display. For Logan, that was what made him feel most like a normal person.

There was a Burger King that was a two minute walk from the theater, so they went there. Upon entry he noticed that a lot of people were glaring... but it wasn't at him and Jean. No, apparently a guy had committed the unforgivable crime of bringing his kids out in public when they were obviously mutants. The boy had shiny black spines sticking out of his vertebrae, starting at the base of his skull and running all the way down to poke holes through the back of his shirt. The girl had fluffy, downy feathers on her arms and the backs of her hands, like a baby chicken.

 _*Nobody's bothered them yet, apparently, but we should keep an ear out all the same,*_ Jean told him in his head.  _*I already notified Charles so that the team's prepared if something happens here.*_

 _God dammit, I just wanted some greasy meat with too much bread wrapped around it,_ Logan complained back, feeling his stomach growl. He wasn't annoyed by other mutants being there, of course; it bothered him that others would probably put up a stink about it and ruin his date with Jean.

Things were quiet while they waited in line, anyway. Logan could hear people muttering confused inquiries to their friends or whispering slurs under their breath, but nothing outwardly violent yet; the fat guy in front of him had an extremely unhealthy-sounding heartbeat, which wasn't surprising; the woman behind them in the line was texting someone, and the sounds of tension and excitement meant it was probably some guy or girl she was into. Annoying people being annoying. Nothing to betray overt bigotry or a hate-crime in the making.

Jean ordered a box of those chicken-things and a bottled water, while Logan demanded three Double Whoppers, a large Coke and a large serving of fries. He paid in cash like always and they sat down very quietly in the booth behind the dad who'd bravely taken his mutant kids out in public. Trying to be subtle about it, Logan slid one of his cards behind him onto the guy's table - he carried a bunch of them around in his wallet in case he came across some mutant in trouble while he was wandering around away from the team ( _James "Logan" Howlett, Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, X-Men Senior Team Member, 555-9231, wolverinexavierinstitute@gmail.com_ ). A second later was a quiet gasp from the guy, which meant he must've read it. Logan smiled inwardly as he heard the little rectangle of embossed paper get slid into a pocket.

 _*And you say you're not a good guy,*_ Jean chuckled, smirking at him across the table.

Logan was about to reply with something half-joking about him only pretending to be a good guy so she'd date him when he froze. His ears picked up the sound... unmistakable. He fought the urge to let his claws out right then and instead twisted around to tap on the guy's shoulder.

"Hey. Take your kids into the bathroom to get washed up," Logan whispered.

"What...?"

"Trust me. It'll be safer."

Mercifully, the dad obeyed and all but dragged his kids into the bathroom while they protested that they weren't done eating yet. Logan and Jean were already on their feet to go outside, food abandoned, because if this happened outside the property damage might not be  _as_ horrific.

"I thought this was supposed to be our day off," Logan bitched as the sentinels came into view.

* * *

Three days later, Logan was about to enter the professor's office but heard voices from inside, so he knocked instead. When given permission to enter, he was surprised to see that Xavier was talking to the guy from the Burger King. The two kids immediately ran over and tackled his knees, clinging on like koalas or something and nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Yeah, he's the one I was talking about," the guy said immediately, glancing back at the professor. "He gave me his card."

"Are you  _really_ Wolverine?" the boy demanded, looking up at him.

"Yup."

"Does your hair just grow like that?" the girl followed up.

"Sorta. When it's short it grows like this, when it gets longer I gotta make it do it."

"Show the claws! Show the claws!" they both started yelling, faces bright and excited.

In spite of himself, Logan chuckled a little and held up his left fist to let the blades slide free.

"Thank you, mister," their dad smiled. "Your boss said my kids can go to school here. You saved us from that... thing."

"Yeah, it's what I do," he shrugged in reply, retracting the claws and plucking the boy and girl off his legs.

Later that day Jean lovingly teased him about having fans, and they watched as a spokesman from Burger King even appeared on the news to publicly apologize for the sentinel attack on "innocent bystanders" in one of their restaurants. Logan's date with Jean had still been ruined three days ago, but at least things had turned out okay afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skipped over the fight scene for two reasons... 1 I suck at writing fight scenes, and 2 it's not the point of this story.


	11. Stomach flu and all its horrors.

Flu season was the worst thing  _ever._

"Starting to wish I was still cage-fighting and living outta my truck," Logan complained as he set the plastic grocery bag down on the desk.

Out of it he pulled ginger ale, saltines and a jar of chicken bullion to make broth with. Since he couldn't get sick, it meant he had to help take care of people who  _were_ sick. There was only one person he actually wanted to take care of.

"Sorry I threw up on you this morning," Jean mumbled as Logan cracked one of the cans and brought it to her.

"Don't worry about it," he shrugged, helping her sit up a little to sip at it.

Actually, her puking all over him because she hadn't made it to the bathroom in time wasn't nearly as bad as the fact that it had made her lose control of her telekinesis and blast him through a wall. They were in a different room now while the hole got fixed.

"I'll try to get up faster next time," Jean promised.

"It's okay, baby. Ain't your fault you got the bug." Logan deposited the soda on the side table and slowly climbed onto the bed, pulling her to his chest. He didn't really mind getting puked on, his whole life was spent covered in blood anyway. "It'll be over soon."

Of course, that didn't change the fact that having the regular flu for a week or two was nowhere near as hellish as having the stomach flu for only two days. It was going to be a long weekend.


	12. Dealing with relatives and not getting along at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to "Laundry Day." Also, given what I've been posting recently in my other Jean/Logan WIP, this is a refreshing little sunshine-and-daisies short for me.

"LOGAN!" Jean howled at him from outside the bathroom, her voice irritated. "Can you  _please_ stop leaving blood all over the place?!"

"Take it up with Sabertooth," Logan grunted, in the process of scrubbing said blood from his fists in the sink and staining the porcelain red. "It's his fault."

"What did I tell you about ruining all your shirts?" she demanded, throwing open the door. "I'm not buying you more."

"Whatever," he shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Again, Sabertooth. I didn't have too much say in the whole thing."

His girlfriend glared at him, holding up his destroyed undershirt and shaking it a little as if that could make him notice even more how it was wet with gore and full of holes. "Explain the big rip right in the front to me... how many of your guts did you lose during this little incident?"

"None," Logan answered truthfully.

" _Really._ "

"Really," he agreed. "I scooped 'em all back in after, didn't lose none'a my guts, baby."

Jeannie groaned at him, then threw the wife beater into the trash and came over to hug him from behind with her face between his shoulder blades.

"Please stop getting eviscerated. I don't like thinking about it."

"No promises, but I'll try."


	13. Having an annoying time while grocery shopping together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in my [Ethics And Existentialism In Hell](http://archiveofourown.org/series/733464) series, at the beginning of Jean and Logan's relationship and before they recover Laura and Brian.

It wasn't just the big things that made life hard for Logan, though God knew there were lots of those. It was also the little things that Jean never thought of.

They were at Price Chopper in Salem Center, picking up the various things people requested which weren't on the weekly food order for the school (for instance, a birthday cake for one of the students, a flavor of ice cream Marie had been craving and talked Jean into picking up for her, and other items like that). It also gave Logan the chance to have some "real world" experience, doing an everyday task that most people carried out in their normal lives. Of course, Logan had been in crowded stores before now, but Jean hadn't taken into account the confusion of actually selecting the food in question.

This was the third time her boyfriend had come stomping back up the aisle towards her, his ears flushed red and his hands in fists because there were eighteen different brands of ice cream and he just didn't know which one to pick. Rather than just grab one at random, or look to see which was cheapest, he'd given up and come back to let Jean take care of it because he just couldn't handle it. Even insignificant choices like these were overwhelming for him. She'd seen him even refuse to wear an overshirt sometimes if he was having a particularly tough morning because he didn't like picking which color of flannel he'd sport for the day, so he'd just left the room for breakfast in his jeans and a wife beater.

"I hate this," Logan muttered, coming to Jean's side and grabbing onto her hand so hard she almost yelped. "I fuckin' hate this, I wanna go back."

"It's okay, baby, we're almost done," Jean soothed, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb and praying he wouldn't accidentally break her fingers. "I'll go get the ice cream, you wait here with the cart. After that we just have to pick up the cake from the bakery and then we can pay for everything and go home."

This was one of the lesser-known and more hideous aspects of his mental illnesses, Jean knew. If Logan had been presented with choices at all prior to his rescue, it was usually which guard he would decapitate first in an escape attempt. Now he was surrounded every day by tiny things most people didn't think twice about - he had to tie his boots every morning before going down to breakfast, he needed to use the electric clippers to trim his beard and not his claws, he was supposed to eat soup with a spoon instead of jamming his face into the bowl and just slurping it up. On a good day, he remembered to complete these minute rituals of daily living. Good days for Logan happened less than once a week.

When Jean got back to the cart with the tub of ice cream in tow, Logan was whipping his head around, hands in fists and nostrils flaring. The scents and noises of the other customers was hitting him like a sledgehammer and Jean could see him on the verge of a panic attack. She dropped the dessert carelessly into the cart and rested her palms on his upper arms, gently calming him with her telepathy and grounding him. His breaths were shuddering.

"Can we leave?" Logan mumbled, sucking in a breath through his nose. "I hate this place."

"Do you want to wait with the truck?" Jean offered, rubbing his arms lightly through his shirt.

"Yeah. I'mma go do that."

Once Logan had left the store and Jean was over at the bakery, she was surprised when a middle-aged woman approached her: "I saw you in the freezer section, was your husband in the army, too?"

"What?" Jean blurted out, shocked. "Um, he's, um, we're not married, he's my boyfriend. But... yes, he was in the military for some time. Why?"

"Oh, just, Jack has the same problem, he hates grocery stores and usually leaves without getting the food. I just wanted to ask... how did you calm your boyfriend down like that? I've never seen that."

"He just needs to be reminded where he is," Jean answered uncomfortably. "Um, listen, I'm actually a doctor, which is how I know this, but it's different for every person. What works for my boyfriend might not help your husband. But don't give up on him, okay? It'll take a lot of work, but he's lucky to have your support. Eventually he can get better with the right therapy."

"Thank you," the woman nodded, smiling.

Jean silently took a deep breath as she retrieved the damn birthday cake, and was glad when nothing else came up as she was paying for the load of food with the Institute credit card. Between strangers asking her for treatment advice and her boyfriend losing his mind every other minute, this had "long day" written all over it and she definitely hadn't gotten enough sleep last night for one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite things besides X-Men (movies and comics both, but in that order) is The Terminator. I'm a sucker for the tragic hero with PTSD, but usually such mediums as film and cartoons only really touch on the big things. In reality, it really can be just these little insignificant things that take down said tragic heroes just as hard.


	14. Taking care of a baby (whether it’s theirs or not).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't really tied to a continuity, but it does have reference to one of the various hate-groups from the comics.

"Don't you fucking love how baby-killing is still a thing?" Logan grumbled as he finished assembling their makeshift barricade.

"Shhh, you're scaring him," Jean scolded quietly, shifting the six-month-old in her arms.

They were holed up in a building awaiting backup from the team. They weren't even in their uniforms, having driven to the southwest corner of the state to investigate anti-mutant activity, and had found a squad of Purifiers ransacking a day-care. After Logan had gone after them with his typical lack of subtlety, Jean had taken advantage of the distraction and found the single mutant baby they'd been looking for. He was an empath, apparently, because she could feel his limited emotional capacity through skin contact and without the use of her telepathy.

"Here, lemme see," Logan murmured, surprising her as he reached out and scooped the rescued mutant to his own chest. The little boy instantly cooed up at him, grabbing onto the collar of his black t-shirt in a tiny fist. Logan was half-whispering things in some language Jean wasn't familiar with, soothing the baby with a soft expression in his eyes she'd only ever seen before when he looked at her. Given that Logan was extremely animalistic even for a feral, Jean wondered if there were some kind of pheromones at work here or if her boyfriend was really just that good with kids. Either answer wouldn't surprise her; he had quite a following at the school among the students. "There. He's better now." Logan handed the small mutant back, who was now asleep.

They sat against the wall, waiting for their teammates to arrive and get them out of this mess. Jean had texted Ororo the situation after finding a hiding spot, so once the team got there they'd smooth things over with the daycare center and the cops over the property damage and the five dead Purifiers that Logan had butchered. The baby would be returned to his parents (or possibly taken into protective custody depending on the situation) and they'd go back to the Institute.

Jean wasn't thinking about that though, not really. Instead she was wishing she'd thought to snap a picture with her phone of Logan holding the baby. In spite of the situation they were in, she couldn't help but think it was an endearing moment around her boyfriend.


	15. A vacation that one of them really enjoys and the other is only putting up with to make them happy.

It bothered Logan a little, not doing things the way he normally would, but that would probably be too much for Jeannie. He knew she'd only agreed to this because she knew he liked being out in the woods, which wasn't really her thing. He could make it work.

"You don't pound them straight in," he explained, showing her how to hammer the metal stake into the dirt with the back of the hatchet. He'd brought all the tools and things "normal" people used to go camping as opposed to just his wits and his claws the way he usually did. "Go at an angle, or else the wind'll yank them right up."

They weren't in an actual campground, so technically this was illegal, but Logan couldn't give less of a shit about that if he tried. Instead he'd poked along through the forest until finding a suitable clearing for their little getaway, much further out than hunters would usually venture. Nothing but him and his girlfriend and the animals.

While Jeannie was finishing up pitching the tent, Logan dug out a hole and laid it with stones to build a fire in without risking burning the woods down. It was probably a safe distance from a birch log that they could sit on at their future campfire, but hopefully let his girlfriend still get the warmth. Even if she didn't, he'd wrap her up in his arms and she'd be cozy that way. He had a surprise dinner planned for her as well - given his absurd strength to carry a metal box filled up with ice to keep the necessary supplies cool (courtesy of Bobby), he had a pack of very expensive and tender steaks, butter, mushrooms, onions, garlic... and of course all kinds of other food which didn't require low temperature. He was already salivating thinking about it.

"You hungry, baby?" Logan asked over his shoulder, starting to dig through his pack.

"A little from all that hiking," Jean smiled back. "Are you about to start cooking?"

"Yeah. You're gonna love it."

Logan gathered the things he needed, building a fire that was enough to cook over. Maintaining it was very easy even as he prepared the steaks: wrapped in tinfoil, with an entire stick of butter per steak, and with an amount of mushrooms and onions and garlic and just enough pepper. He put the steaks directly on the edge of his fire and then pulled out the one frying pan. His claws were efficient at the creation of potato fries, which he seasoned carefully and fried with some oil.

Something about using an actual fire, burning wild wood in a forest, made food about forty times more delicious in Logan's opinion. Apparently Jeannie agreed, because she praised his cooking up and down as they sat on their birch log with extremely tender steak and scratch-made fries.

"There's only enough'a this stuff for this one meal," Logan pointed out as they ate and watched evening deepen. "We got packets'a hot cereal for breakfast, and some other stuff like that, but otherwise I'mma hunt until we leave."

"That's fine, I honestly thought you'd hunt for  _everything,_ even tonight."

"Nah. Thought you'd like this better."

"I love it," Jean assured him, leaning over to kiss his temple. "This is really nice, Logan. I think I understand why you like it so much out here... it feels more free."

"Yeah. No work pressures, no hate graffiti to paint over... no obnoxious mission orders from Cyke..." She chuckled a little at that. "Just me and all the other animals. And now you're here, too, with all us animals. But I like it. I get to share something with you that's special to me."

"Well, thank you. I feel privileged that you're letting me in on your world," she smiled, leaning into his body. She was wrapped in one of his flannels and he liked it on her, absorbing the wood smoke and the earthy smells of the wild forest to make her own scent even more appealing to him. "It feels a little different than I imagined, too. I thought it might be like one of the camping trips the kids always talk about after Scott takes them for a couple of days. But this is... i can see how at home you feel here, and that makes me feel like I'm a little at home."

Logan shook his head. "Nah. The woods're nice, baby, and I like being out here, but I feel most at home when I'm where you are."

They sat out together and watched the fire go out, then retreated into their tent to make love. They fell asleep still tangled and slumbered more peacefully than either of them had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love camping and hiking, I've been doing it since almost before I was born and I totally get the comfort and ease Logan has out in the wilderness. Also the thing he does with the steaks is a real thing. Those steaks are the most tender and delicious meal EVER CONCEIVED BY MANKIND and are a time-honored tradition in my family.


	16. An insufferable Christmas party at work that they just couldn’t find an excuse to get out of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the list of prompts at the beginning of December, which is why this is centered around a Christmas party even though I'm posting the chapter in February.

Logan hated parties.

This wasn't a secret, of course. Logan had constantly complained whenever there was one coming up, for any number of reasons ranging from "now I'm going to miss the hockey game on TV" to "now people will be constantly trying to interrupt my drinking". Jean usually found herself scolding him for that one, though right now he didn't seem to be letting anything get in the way of his sixth bottle of Jack Daniels as he stood in the back corner of the room with his tie pulled out and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows. Apparently this was going to be one of  _those_ nights.

Jean marched over to her boyfriend and snatched the liquor out of his hand: "Stop that."

"Only thing makin' this bearable," Logan practically whined in response, reaching for his bottle of happiness. Wonderful, he was at the rare point of nearly succeeding to get drunk. It was hard, but she'd seen him accomplish it a couple of times before. "C'mon, darlin', give it back..."

"No. I'm  _not_ carrying you upstairs again when you pass out."

"Not gonna pass out," Logan argued, leaning back on the wall with a grimace because his head was probably starting to feel funny. "C'mon, give it back, it's finally kickin' in."

"That's exactly why you're  _not_ getting it back," Jean informed him. She noticed Ororo coming over at that moment and held out the bottle of Jack in a way that wouldn't invite questions or argument. Not that her friend was likely to do either of those things. "Please take this someplace safe, he's had more than enough."

"Of course," Ororo agreed, clearly trying not to laugh at Logan's pathetic, disheveled state.

Jean turned back to her boyfriend and re-adjusted his tie, giving him  _the look_ to stop him from protesting. "Would it be considered nagging to try pointing out to you that your drinking is really getting out of hand lately?"

"Yes," Logan answered flatly, the clearness returning to his eyes as his healing factor was detoxing him. "Would it be considered bitchin' if I said you're makin' me suffer for no reason?"

"Absolutely," Jean nodded, yanking on the narrow end of the tie until it choked him as punishment. She unrolled his sleeves after that and buttoned the cuffs, ignoring the annoyed look she got. "You'll live, and if you have so much as another  _drop_ tonight you're not getting any until the next Christmas party you try to drown out with whiskey."

That got exactly the spluttering outrage she'd expected, but she tuned him out and then boldly dragged him away from the back corner.

* * *

After the Christmas party, Jean took a very long shower by herself because (although she couldn't even admit it in the privacy of her own thoughts) she needed a break from her boyfriend's crippling alcoholism. She wasn't sure exactly what he was trying to drink away these days, only that the Christmas party among the X-Men had provided a weak pretext for him to do so. It bothered her that Logan was clearly in some kind of emotional pain and wouldn't share it with her, even though he'd let her in on all his other inner turmoil before now.

When she'd finished up in the bathroom and opened the door, her eyes immediately landed on Logan, who was seated on the end of the bed with his head hanging and body slumped.

"Baby what's bothering you so much?" Jean asked, settling beside him and pulling him to her body. "You've drank more in the last three weeks than in the previous three  _months._ "

"I fuckin' hate Christmas," Logan grumped, leaning his weight into her at the invitation, his head now resting on her left shoulder. "I know I got you, an' also Marie, but... most'a everyone here at the school's got some kinda family even if it's just with each other. An' the X-Men are all a family. I been here for however long now, an' it still feels like I got no family. I ain't any closer to bein' part'a that family than when I first got here. An' even if I was, it ain't gonna matter in the end, 'cause there ain't a single person in this place I ain't gonna outlive in the end. So even if I  _did_ have a family, it wouldn't last. No point." He shook his head a little, rubbing lightly on her shoulder. "An' this fuckin' holiday's all 'bout bein' with your friends an' family an' shit, which just reminds me I got none."

The unfortunate thing about Logan's entire viewpoint was that it made sense for him to feel that way. No wonder he was trying to put himself into a stupor with bottle after bottle of Jack. It also made Jean feel a little bad for threatening him earlier.

"I'm sorry you're having a hard time," Jean murmured after taking a moment to process everything. She stroked down his hair idly. "For what it's worth, I didn't know how difficult this would be for you. If I did, I wouldn't have made you go to the party with everyone. I just wanted you to have some normal interaction. But... you do have friends. You have some difficulties dealing with other people, but we're all your friends. And you don't always have to be born into a family, or adopted into one like most of us here are. They're all  _my_ family, and so by default that makes them your family, too. And you'd be surprised how many of them see it that way. You'd be even  _more_ surprised to learn how many of them have adopted you into their family."

"Maybe," Logan shrugged. "Still gonna lose everyone eventually."

"Then why worry about it if you can't do anything? Don't just obsess over the time you're losing. Enjoy the time you  _do_ have."

"I guess." Logan wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her face. "You stopped me from drinkin', you at least gonna let me go to sleep now?"

"Only if you shower," Jean smiled back, kissing his forehead. "You still smell like a distillery."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this little piece took a WAAAAY darker turn than I intended. But I guess that's par for the course with this couple or really anything involving Logan. Anyway, for all two of you who made it this far or even started reading this series of shorts, thanks for making it to the end :)
> 
> THE AUTHOR DEMANDS FEEDBACK!!!! Seriously, not very many people ever comment on my stuff, and it's kind of discouraging when I see other people's fics that have hundreds of comments and thousands of kudos while mine struggle to break double digits. It makes me feel like there's no point in me posting my work because not very many people read it and fewer still give any evidence that they LIKED reading it. In other words, some validation would be nice.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, please feel free to check out my original WIP, [Nucleus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027367).


End file.
